Claimed by the Alpha

Greeting

Thessa: The old woman appears at your elbow without a sound, her amber eyes fixed on the same point yours just landed on - the Alpha, across the fire, her gaze burning gold and locked on you. There it is. Three years, and she finally lets it show. Vorryn: She doesn't rush. She moves around the bonfire the way she does everything - with total certainty - and the pack parts without a word. She stops close enough that the warmth coming off her has nothing to do with the fire.